


The Most Important Work Begins at Home

by AlwaysKeepAiming



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Future Fic, Jon Snow is the King in the North, Original Character(s), Period Typical Behavior, Sansa Stark is the Queen in the North, the pack survives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2020-05-16 14:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysKeepAiming/pseuds/AlwaysKeepAiming
Summary: Robb just desperately wants to make their Father proud but Benjen is convinced he’s going to hate him forever, all while Lyanna’s trying to make sense of this tall stranger who takes up way too much of her mother’s time.Or, when Jon returns from a two-year border war with the North and the 6 Kingdoms, it’s harder finding their rhythm as a family than either he or Sansa thought it would be.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome!  
> This is an AU piece where Jon and Sansa have been ruling the North for a decade, having defeated the dead earlier on in their reign and won Independence for the North after. This is not focused on the politics of Westeros at all, but I am working on another multi-chapter story that would explain how they got to this point. But that is a story for another day. Since this is AU, some people who died in the show, are alive in my story, and some people have different titles/roles, but I tried to stay true to what I feel the characters are.  
> I get inspiration from the White Princess and Game of Thrones itself.  
> I do not own any characters.  
> Thank you, and enjoy!

Part I- Robb  
To say Robb felt nervous was a bit of an understatement. A little while ago, an eager guard came bursting into mother’s solar to announce that riders had been spotted carrying the direwolf banner. Father was finally returning. The quiet lunch with his siblings and his mother was quickly forgotten. 

Mother had jumped into a series of actions, calmly declaring orders in a way he had learned to expect from the Queen in the North. The lords needed to be notified, and the courtyard was to be full of people to greet their king, hot food must be prepared because surely, they would be hungry, and each child was to be quickly dressed in their best cloak. Robb had been bustled out of the room to change without any regard for his half-eaten sandwich left on the table. 

It had been nearly two years since Father had been home. Robb didn’t really know the details of the war that had caused Father to be away for such a long time. He knew that an army from the South had march North, through the Neck, and began taking lands and keeps along the way. Mother had called it a deep betrayal. North and the Six Kingdoms had been at peace for many years but apparently, some houses were not happy with the independent North. 

Maester Tarly had said there was no reason for the invasion and the southern army was not acting on orders of their queen. The army was just acting on their own and not respecting what the North had done to earn their freedom. They apparently wanted the North to return under the rule of the Iron Throne, which Robb did not think would ever work. Mother said multiple times that Northerners were loyal and would not kneel to a southern crown again. If there was one thing Robb was confident about in his countrymen was their stubbornness. 

The wind blew through the courtyard, making Robb shiver involuntarily and return to the moment as his stomach growled. They had been waiting in the courtyard for a few minutes now. Robb was standing right next to mother on the right, with Benjen next to him. Lyanna stood on the other side of mother, burying her small face into skirts of her dress. His little sister was wearing dark blue and grey furs, a similar shade to mother’s while both he and Benjen were in black with brown furs. 

“Where is he?” Benjen leaned over and asked. Perhaps Mother had been a little eager and the riders were still too far away. Robb didn’t miss how most people in the yard were beginning to fidget as well. Everyone seemed to be impatiently waiting on the king.

“I dunno. Coming.” Robb answered, pulling on his cloak while his stomach made a deep gurgling sound again. Benjen must have heard it as he started to snicker, “Shut up.” He told his younger brother in a deep hiss.

Benjen was quick to respond and never one to back down from his brother, “You shut up.” 

Robb rolled his eyes, “Oh good one.” He retorted, sneering a little bit. They were only a year and a half apart, but they could not be more different. Benjen was all trouble with light hair and weird eyes, while Robb was all his Father and shared the weight of knowing that he is his Father’s heir. Within seconds the two boys were shoving each other. Robb found Benjen to be the annoying thorn in his side most days and wasn’t afraid to knock him down. Robb was older after all and Benjen didn’t stand a chance against him when they wrestled. 

“Boys!” Mother snapped, her voice quick and tart. Ser Hador, the swordmaster who was standing behind them, grabbed a shoulder on each of them and forced them apart, making Robb release his brother from a neck hold. 

Mother’s sharp blue eyes glared down at the two of them, making Robb and Benjen squirm. He had heard Maester Tarly claim once that his mother was a natural born queen. Being on the opposite side of her burning gaze made Robb believe that in a second. Mother is kind and gentle but had a fire that could intimidate any lord or lady and all of her children into doing what she was asking. 

Robb often wondered if he would ever be the ruler his parents are. When his father rode off to war, he was only seven and had not yet started his princely lessons. It wasn’t until they began after his eighth name day when Robb started to pay attention to how his mother ruled. She was good, that much was obvious, earning and keeping the loyalty of her people, day in and day out. 

On the other hand, Robb knew very little about his father as the king, except that everyone spoke highly of him. They said he was brave, a warrior for the century, with sword skills unparalleled by anyone in the North. They sing songs about his bravery and skill on the battlefield. He knew that father’s crown wasn’t given, it was fought for and earned. 

Robb figured that father must be a good king as Mother wouldn't allow anything but that. However, Mother was never very forthcoming about the details Robb was curious about. Whenever he asked questions to her, about Father, she would always answer the same way: ‘Your father is brave, gentle, and strong. And he is good at what he does.’ It was reassuring, but not very specific. 

Sounds of hoofbeats and the neighing of horses brought Robb out of his thoughts. Mother glanced eagerly at the gate while Benjen raised on his toes to try and see better, despite no one being in front of him. There was a murmur through the crowd as people were finally about to see their king again. Robb only felt his nerves double; certain he was the only one feeling dread right now. Well, him and Lyanna, who seemed terrified, trying to disappear into Mother’s thick skirts and cloak. 

All of the siblings had mixed feelings about Father returning. Robb had been seven and Benjen five and a half when he had left, but little Lyanna was not even two and had almost no recollection of father. Even Benjen’s memories were blurred when it came to him. A fact he admitted to Robb late one night after first learning that father was finally returning. 

Even Robb was having issues remembering some of the details. He remembered late nights in the solar, playing with his toys while father read and mother sewed and a deep voice reassuring him as he rode a horse for the first time by himself, and sitting side by side in the Godswood as father sharpened his sword, Robb mimicking the motions with his wooden sword and stone. He could remember his father home, in Winterfell, but when he tried his best to remember father’s face, all he could picture was a dark shadow with a half-crescent scar. 

Finally, horses came through the gate and into the courtyard. First came the bannermen, two each with white banners and a gray direwolf printed on them. Next a series of guards, most dressed in the typical Stark armor, but a few in a more elegant version. “Who are they?” Benjen asked, thankfully rather quietly.

Robb leaned over to whisper back, “Kingsgaurd, they have gray capes. That’s Ser Jamie and Ser Brienne.” He knew from lessons from Maester Tarly that they were two of the guards that mother and father, trusted most. They were easy to tell, not just for their gray capes but for Ser Jamie had a golden hand, and Ser Brienne was the only woman in the guard. “And that’s Lord Davos.” He nodded to the man riding into the gate next. 

"Father's advisor," Benjen responded, in a sort of aw. While some men stayed behind to protect Winterfell, most rode off to war with father. Robb figured this was the first time Benjen was faced with the types of warriors he loved to read about. He could feel Benjen was about to ask another question but wouldn’t get the chance as the next horse to ride through the gates was Father's. 

As soon as the king was in sight, people in the courtyard fell to their knees. Mother stayed standing though as did Robb. She had already taught them the proper protocol for greeting father again. ‘Stand for you are a Prince of the North but bow your head for the king still rules above you.’ She had told when fixing his cloak on the balcony moments ago. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Mother gently bow her head, a relieved smile gracing her face. He knew he should be bowing his head as well, but he was frozen, not only for the cold but also because he could finally see father again. Benjen had also forgotten Mother’s words and was staring up at father with a wide smile. 

Father rode in on a large black horse, holding the reins in one hand, the other resting loosely on his thigh, right by his sword with the wolf's head. The one Robb remembers him sharpening with care. Robb quickly realized that remembering his father as a dark shadow was not completely false. He had long dark hair, a dark beard, and an even darker cloak. Even his eyes were dark from this distance, two bottomless pits. 

Mother reached up and placed her gloved hand on his neck. A quick reminder that was not showing the respect that Father deserved. He quickly adjusted and nudged Benjen to do the same, not realizing that Maester Tarly, already had his hand mirroring Mother’s. After seeing that, he was certain Mother had a similar hand on Lyanna’s neck as well. 

Robb drilled his eyes to the ground, silently kicking himself that he had needed a reminder like Lyanna and Benjen. How foolish. He was the eldest and he was the heir, he should remember how to address father without mother doing anything. 

The last memory had with father was the morning he rode out to war. Lyanna was with a nurse, and Benjen was napping so it was just him and his parents in their solar. Robb could still feel his father's heavy hand on his shoulder. ‘I'm leaving now Robb, that makes you the man of Winterfell.' He had told him as Mother stifled her tears in the corner. ‘You must take care of your mother, your siblings, and start your princely lessons. You grow into the man and the prince I know you can be.’ 

He had answered Father with the determination that he would make him proud. It was the last thing he had promised father and so far, he was letting him down by forgetting the easy things. 

Still, he couldn’t help but glance up with his eyes, all while keeping his head down. Father had stopped his horse and given the reigns to a guard, dismounting with ease. He didn't even need the steps that were being brought out for Lord Davos. His boots hit the ground with a loud thud and his cloak swelled around them. It was all Robb could see without lifting his head further and Mother's hand would not allow that.

As Father took a few steps towards them, he ordered, "Rise." Mother lifted her head first and it wasn't until a moment after that her hand dropped from his neck and other people in the courtyard started to rise as well. Father was in front of Mother at this point, a small smile on his face. Now that he was closer, Robb could see the crescent scar clearly and how the curls in his hair were tied back. 

“My queen.” Father greeted mother, a smile on both of their faces. Robb wasn’t certain what to expect at this point. Maester Tarly had told him that royalty didn’t always get to marry for love, but the way mother was looking at father said otherwise. Mother stepped forward and hugged Father closely. Robb could barely see her face as it was covered by father's furs. Maybe they were the lucky ones.

“My King.” Mother sighed, “Winterfell is yours.” 

"Winterfell is ours." Father corrected, grabbing both of Mother's gloved hands in his. He brought them up and kissed them. Robb had seen plenty of lords do that, but never both hands, and never as close as what father was doing. Definitely lucky. 

He took a step back and addressed the courtyard, "As is the North! We fought, we won, and the North remains to your king and your queen!” Cheers erupted, filling the courtyard and echoing off the walls. 

“The pack survives!” “The King in the North!” “Long live the red and white wolf!” Where among the many cheers declared. Lyanna looked at Robb from behind mother, her small hands covering her ears. Even though Robb felt bad, there was nothing he could do for her while the northerners were celebrating. Benjen, on the other hand, joined in the cheers, thrusting his small fist in the air. 

Mother touched father’s cheek, rubbing her thumb right under the end of his scar. Lord Davos stepped up as father stepped away, bowing, “Your grace, you are radiant as ever.” If there was one thing Robb remembered clearly from before the war, was Lord Davos’ voice and thick accents, telling him stories of before he was born. 

"Thank you, Lord Davos, and thank you for returning my husband safely." Mother declared her voice light and aired. Father had been turning his attention to Robb but was pulled back into the conversation with Mother and his advisor.

Robb couldn’t see father’s face, but whatever look he was giving Lord Davos was not enough to stop him from continuing to tease the king, “Aye, your grace, never an easy task. He’s a handful that one.” Mother would have been able to stop Lord Davos with one look, but she was enjoying herself for some reason Robb couldn’t figure out. She always said that a king never teases and never should be teased, but here she was, teasing father like how the older boys in swords class would tease Robb. 

“Excuse me?” Father’s voice was also light, which surprised Robb, as he thought for certain father would be mad. “I am not a handful.” Lord Davos raised his eyebrow before stepping around the king, headed to greet Maester Tarly. 

This meant, as Mother greeted Ser Brienne, father was in front of him. Robb found it hard to meet his eye, so instead he focused on the leather of his cloak, and the direwolf stitched there. "Hello, Robb." 

“Father,” Robb greeted, nodding his head once before focusing again on the direwolf. Up close he could see the brown tint to the cloak as well as the stiff material of his tunic. “Welcome home.” He was uncertain what to say and immediately started questioning his choice of words. 

Father seemed unfazed though and instead put his hand on Robb's shoulder, his thumb tapping his cheek. A silent request for Robb to look up at him. He kept his head level but did direct his gaze upward. Father had ducked his head and leaned in, an attempt to look less intimidating. It did not work, and Robb would have cowered away if it had not been Father. 

"Have you done what you promised me?" He asked, keeping his hand on Robb's shoulder. It was surprising to Robb that Father might remember their last conversation, as well as Robb, did. He had thought about it nearly every day, and the pressure to please father was constant.  
Glancing away, Robb thought for a moment, before looking back at his father’s face. “I hope so, sir.” Father offered a weak smile before straightening up and ruffling Robb’s hair. 

“Good man,” He took a step to the right to greet Benjen. Father seemed as pleased to see them as mother had claimed he'd be. That is, Robb noticed, until he fully looked at his brother. “Little Benjen, not so little-.” Father’s words died in his throat, as his eyes glazed over, oddly staring at Benjen.

The brothers looked at each other before glancing back at their father, Benjen’s wide smile falling quickly off his face. Robb wasn’t certain what was making father look at Benjen that way, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Maester Tarly coughed once and it was enough to jolt father out of his frozen state. "You're not so little anymore. Grown a head since I saw you last." Robb noticed how Father's voice sounded far off. There was something Benjen must have done to upset him. 

Mother swooped in to fix the situation, as she always did. “My love, we have hot food waiting for you and your travel party, and tomorrow we will have a grand feast to celebrate your safe return." She wove her arm into his, pulling his attention back to the present, to her. The courtyard was breaking into a more casual setting, horses being dealt with, guards heading to pack up their swords, and the Lords who had returned with father greeting the members of their houses who were here. In a flurry of long cloaks and flashes of armor, mother and father turned to head inside, surrounded by the kingsguard, Maester Tarly, and Lord Davos. 

Lyanna crept up beside Robb and pulled on his cloak. Instinctively, Robb reached for his sister’s hand as he watched their parents disappear into the building. “What did you do?” Robb asked, looking Benjen up and down. His brother looked normal, and there wasn't any reason for Father to get upset.

“I didn’t do anything!” Benjen declared, his once happy face replaced by a scowl, glaring after their parents with crossed arms. “I don’t know why father got upset.”  
Lyanna spoke up, “He didn’t say anything to me.” Her small voice quivered slightly. Robb knew she was scared of father’s return, as she was with most things. The greeting in the courtyard not going well probably only confirmed things for her. “He didn’t like me.” She sighed.

Glancing between his two siblings, Robb felt at a loss. He needed to say something, but he had no idea what caused his father's odd behavior. Clearly, someone did something wrong. "It was probably me." He admitted, "He's not happy with me." Father must know something that had disappointed him about Robb. Maybe Maester Tarly told him he was behind in lessons or Ser Hador had sent a raven about his pitiful sword skills. 

The courtyard was beginning to die out, people returning to their day or following after their king. The three Stark children stood in a line, all staring at the doorway. Robb had Lyanna’s hand and an arm thrown around Benjen’s shoulders. He had felt so nervous about his father returning and now that he was back in Winterfell, he didn’t know what to think at all. 

Lyanna shivered again as his stomach growled. His mind quickly jumped back to his half a sandwich, hopefully still in mother’s solar. “C’ mon. Let’s go finish lunch.”


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benjen pushes the line and is surprised to find Jon pushing back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back!  
> Thank you to all who commented or left kudos, your support means so much. I currently plan to update around once a week, maybe a little earlier  
> I did want to reiterate that this is not a political piece and is more just a family fluff story. Some season 8 things and characters will get referenced but it is very much background to the focal point which is Jon's relationship with his children.  
> Please enjoy!

Part II- Benjen

Benjen knew he was a troublemaker. He was told that constantly. Maids, guards, various lords, and ladies who had all caught the young prince breaking the rules. Mother said it as she tried to hide her smile, as he stole her extra lemon cakes. Maester Tarly said it after he caught Benjen late in the library. He didn’t send Benjen back to bed though, only asked if he could help the young prince find something. Robb told him almost daily, but almost always partook in the antics Benjen thought of, especially if it meant bothering Lyanna. 

She was his sister, and he knew he was supposed to love her. And he did. Some of the time. Most of the time he just enjoyed teasing and pranking his little sister. Winterfell could get so dreary and Benjen thought it was his personal mission to lighten the mood. It wasn’t his fault that Lyanna was such an easy target. 

Plus, Benjen wasn’t afraid to cause some havoc. Even when Benjen was caught, he never got into that much trouble. People had other things to worry about instead of whatever chaos he had caused that day. By midday, his morning antics were always forgotten, and he could plan his next move. Currently, there was nothing left to do except enjoy his little sister’s cries. 

“Benj- Robb! Stop it!” Lyanna yelled, chasing the two brothers down a hallway. “Give her back!” Robb was laughing too hard to say anything and followed Benjen into the great hall. It was normally empty at this point in the morning and would provide the perfect wide open space for the boys to lose their sister. 

Lyanna was hot on their tails, tears spilling out of her eyes. Even though she was so much younger than he and Robb, she was fast, so be had to adjust his style. In the wide-open space of the great hall, Benjen hopped onto a bench. Robb stopped on the other side, by the other long table while Lyanna went straight for Benjen.  
This was too easy for Benjen as she fell straight into his trap. “Robb! Catch!” He tossed the focus point of Lyanna’s torment to his older brother. It was a wooden wolf, expertly carved by the finest woodwork in Winter Town. Lyanna loved the wolf, affectionately naming it Little Silver, and carried it almost everywhere with her. Benjen had swiped it from her after breakfast this morning as she was getting dressed.

Robb caught it with easy and Lyanna turned her sights on him instead. “Robb,” She called, drawing his name out long and slow as she furiously wiped tears from her cheeks. Benjen hopped down and ran across the aisle, a way down from Robb who quickly tossed the wolf back to his brother, hopping down from the bench as well.  
Lyanna’s pleas were nothing over the laughs of the two brothers. Benjen had grown recently, and now both boys were towering over her. Even without being on the bench, they could toss it over her head. Every time she’d get close to them, the wolf was chucked to the other brother. “Stop it! Don’t” She cried, turning her focus back to Benjen. 

He was about to take off with it again when a loud voice stopped him in his tracks, cold as ice. “What is going on here?” Father. He was coming in from the other end of the great hall, with Lord Davos, Maester Tarly, and Ser Brienne. He was moving quickly, his cloak dragging open behind him, making father seem bigger than he was. Benjen bit his lip as ice pulsed through his veins, freezing him in his tracks while Robb tripped over his own feet. Even Lyanna stalled and kept her distance, sniffling her tears. 

Benjen had been excited to see father again and hear his war stories, but after a few days home, Father was proving not to be the man he had hoped for. Benjen had hardly seen father since he had returned from war. Most of father’s time was taken up during the day with the Lords who were in town. If he wasn't talking with a Lord, then he was locked up in his office, working through the mound of papers that Benjen had spotted when he was sneaking around. That or celebrating. The day after father returned, Mother had thrown a huge feast, but none of the children had been allowed to attend. There was always someone who wanted to toast to father’s safe return. 

Now that Benjen was thinking about it, he'd only really seen his father a few times. Once in the courtyard where he had left, upset at something that mother was not willing to explain, no matter how much Benjen asked. Then later that night with mother to say goodnight, even though he only hung out in the doorway barely even in the solar the three children shared, watching mother hug them each. Finally, for breakfast each morning, for a few moments and some other random passes in the hall. Father did not seem to have much time for any of his children.

However, father was here now, glaring down at the three of them as he walked now the aisle of the great hall. Benjen had the wolf which he quickly hid behind his back. Robb looked absolutely terrified, and Benjen knew he was going to have to cover for both of them. Robb may be older, but he could be such a wuss sometimes. So, he swallowed his fear and spoke as steady as he could manage. “Nothin’. We were just playing.” 

Lord Davos and Maester Tarly had followed behind father and Benjen hated the disappointed look on Maester Tarly’s face. His eyes seemed sad and his mouth pulled tightly. Father raised an eyebrow, obviously not buying Benjen’s story. It was quiet in the great hall, save for Lyanna’s sniffles. 

Father reached out his hand to Benjen and beckoned with two of his fingers, wanting the wolf he was hiding behind his back. It was a stare down as Benjen had no plans in turning himself in. He was weighing his options, trying to figure a way out of this that did not involve getting into trouble. "Now," Father ordered, his hand not wavering. The exits were blocked and even if he turned to run, he was pretty confident Ser Brienne could catch him.

Benjen sighed. Not getting in trouble did not seem like an option. Defeated, he turned the wooden figurine over to father's waiting had. Robb was staring at the floor, white-faced and upset they got caught. Father brought the wolf up and inspected it. "What's this?" He asked, turning the wolf over once. 

Lyanna stepped forward and crossed her little arms, “That’s Little Silver and she’s mine!” She yelled, stamping her foot at the end, the noise bouncing off the walls of the empty hall. Benjen noticed father almost seemed confused. He glanced down at his daughter and then back up at the wolf. 

“Why do you boys have this?” Father asked. Benjen was learning how he didn't like it when father looked at him. His dark eyes seemed to burn disappointment, and he'd never seen him smile. Not once. Benjen didn't know why Father was always so mad but he was getting sick of it. 

Robb was completely useless and remained silent but Benjen decided that if father wanted to be mad at him, he’d give him a reason. “I took it.” He declared, crossing his arms and looking his father straight on, determined not to cower. Benjen’s defiance took the room by a surprise, causing both Lord Davos and Maester Tarly to glance at each other and father to lean back, taking his gaze to the back wall of the hall. Benjen felt a little bit of pride that he was able to take some sort of win over his father. 

However, when Father's gaze turned back to Benjen, it was stronger than ever, and his voice was choppier, “Why?” 

It made him falter slightly but he recovered by swallowing his nerves, “Why not?” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Robb turned his glare to him and shushed him. Benjen wasn't going to back down now. He was in too deep, so instead, he stuck his tongue out at his brother. Father was already mad at him, so he might as well make Robb mad too. 

Father scowled at both boys and then extended the wolf to Lyanna, who quickly snatched it back. Hugging the wolf close to her seemed to stop more tears from falling. Now that she had her precious wolf, Benjen watched as she retreated from the great hall, passing mother as she went. The moment she was behind their parents back she paused and stuck her tongue as if to say, ‘you’re going to get it,’ and taunting the boys. 

The whole situation was stupid, Benjen decided. It was just a stupid wooden wolf, yet Lyanna freaked out every time she didn’t know where it was. Then the moment she got it back, her confidence would return as the boys faced trouble. “What in the world? Oh,” Mother read the situation correctly as she came up beside father, “They took her wolf again, didn’t they?” She asked, crossing her arms with a disappointed look painted on her face. Benjen’s heart sunk. 

Normally when he caused trouble, Mother would get upset, but always let him off the hook. Sometimes he'd get sent to his room, or have to help in the kitchen, but the smile that graced her face when she thought he wasn't looking always made it worth it. Now, Mother looked just as mad as Father. 

“I have told you two time and time again, not to take your sister’s things. Yet here we are, time and time again. Enough.” Mother berated; her lips pulled tight into a line. “I’m going to go find Lyanna and I expect the two of you to apologize.” She looked long and hard at each boy before touching father’s shoulder and leaving the hall. Her long red hair waved down her back as she shook her head in frustration.

Benjen rolled his eyes, trying to figure out how to get out of this conversation. Mother was upset, and he needed to lay low for the anger to pass. He’d get out of it, he always did, and in a few days, it all would be forgotten. Except for how father still looked upset, “You will both apologize to your sister, before midday lunch.”  
Father paused, raising an eyebrow as he glanced in between Benjen and Robb. Benjen knew what he was waiting for, but he so didn’t want to. Robb was a total pushover though and quickly murmured, “Yes sir.” 

Benjen rolled his eyes at that but as soon as father’s full attention was on him, he buckled and repeated those words, a fear creeping up on him. "Yes, sir." He wasn't liking father very much but Benjen could recognize a good glare when he saw one and father definitely had one. 

"And if either of you takes her things again, I will have you over my knee. Is that understood?" Father threatened and the ice that had paralyzed Benjen when he first saw father, struck him again. The threat was heavy on his mind and he could see how Robb’s lip quivered. Benjen was certain he had gone as white as Robb as well.  
Benjen answered immediately with Robb, not wanting to upset father anymore, “Yes sir.” 

“You both have lessons to get to. Now.” Father ordered, nodding to the door. That jolted Benjen out of his frozen state and he scurried after Robb. 

Mother had never threatened that before. The worst Benjen ever got was to go to his room without dinner. She did say often though, that he was lucky that father was not home or else he’d have to face him. Now Benjen knew what she meant. That idea was upsetting. 

Once Benjen and Robb were out in the hallway, Robb grabbed his arm tightly. “That was it Benj, no more messing with Lyanna. You do it again, and I’ll blacken your eye.” Oh great. Now Benjen had to deal with his bossy older brother who had suddenly grown a spine. Where was this guy when Benjen had needed him? “You heard father.” 

Robb fixed him with one more long stare before heading to his lessons. Once Robb was out of sight, Benjen groaned loudly and kicked the wall. He was mad at Lyanna for being such a baby, and Robb for being such a suck up and he most certainly was mad at father. The whole thing was stupid and was nothing. Every time he caused trouble, it was always nothing, and this time would be no different. Neither would the next time. As he roamed the halls of Winterfell, Father's words still heavy on his mind, Benjen found himself wishing very much that Father had never returned in the first place.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing scarier than Winterfell during a storm is when Lyanna is alone in Winterfell during a storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back!  
> I want to thank everyone who commented and left kudos. This is my first time sharing my work and I have been overwhelmed by the support this piece has received! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I do want to address some questions that have come up in the comments.  
> 1.) I originally wrote the first four chapters as one large chapter that switched POVs throughout. After seeing the length of the chapter, I decided to split it up over four chapters. Therefore, somethings addressed or referenced in chapter 1, don't get answered until chapter 4 (Jon's POV), so stay patient! Answers are coming!  
> 2.) I try my best to stay true to characters, or at least my interpretation of characters. I know Jon seems slightly out of character right now or not the best father. A large part of that is because of the fact the POVs up until this point have been the children and the biggest plot point is that they don't know him as well right now. To them, he isn't going to seem like the Jon we know.  
> 3.) A little background on this world. Jon and Sansa were a political match that grew into something else. I had the idea of what if the events with Daenerys did not line up with the events in Westeros. Pretty much, what would have happened there was a year between the Battle of the Bastards and Daenerys sailing for Dragonstone. Idk. Just something I started thinking about one day and the next thing I knew, I had a whole AU created. I am working on a piece set during that year which would explain Jon and Sansa's relationship. So stay tuned! 
> 
> Thank you all again, I am thrilled that people are reading and enjoying this piece!  
> Enjoy!

Part III- Lyanna

Lyanna didn’t like it when people said she was scared. She wasn’t scared. She was just careful when she doesn’t like some things. Like horses, which were just way too big, or when the candle went out before she was fully asleep, or when the hunting hounds barked too loud as she crossed the courtyard. She wasn’t scared of them; she was just extra careful because she did not like those things one little bit. 

However, if there was one thing she was scared of, it was storms. Storms were scary, especially at night in the pitch black. The outside lanterns never lasted very long in a storm and were always blown out, leaving nothing but the dark coming from the window. Lyanna did not like the dark, inside or outside. If storms were the first thing she feared, the dark was probably the second thing. The dark combined with the howling winds and rattling windows, made for a very scary night whenever it rained. 

Right now, it was terrifying. The wind was loud, the rain was loud, and every few moments light would flash and then a crash of thunder would pass. Lyanna did not like this one little bit. Robb told her Winterfell was the strongest keep in the North, but it surely could not stand up to the rain beating down. Plus, she was certain that something was trying to get through her window the way it was rattling and shaking right now. 

There was no way Lyanna could hide deeper in the furs on her bed as she was currently. The candle she kept by her bedside was slowly melting down, but every roll of thunder made Lyanna feel more awake than ever before. She kept her eyes trained on the small flame, her heart beating loudly in her chest. Little Silver was right by the candle, loyally watching her, but she felt no comfort. Oh, how she hated storms. 

A fierce rattle made the window latch finally give. Lyanna yelped as the banging windowpanes let in the rain and wind it was supposed to keep out. Whatever was trying to get in, it was surely going to get her now! She tried covering her head with a blanket, but it did little to help her beating heart and tear-filled eyes. There was only one logical course of action at this point. Leave. Lyanna crawled under the furs to the foot of her bed and with a quick leap off, she was at the door. There was no time to deal with the window and whatever it was letting in. She barely opened the door enough to squeeze through before she was taking off down the hall. 

The echo of bare feet bounced off the walls of the empty hall. It was late and no one was roaming at this time of night which meant Lyanna was running alone. This was easy though; one thing she could throw caution to the wind with. She couldn’t handle the storm, the dark, or the wide-open window, but running through the halls was a breeze. Her destination was clear in her mind and the path was one well-traveled by the little princess. 

Down the hall, right turn, up the spiral staircase, and then the first door on the left. Mama’s rooms. She could make it there from her room blindfolded. Brushing her messy hair back, Lyanna pushed the door open. It was a heavy door, but that was expected. What wasn’t expected was what Lyanna found inside the rooms.  
Empty. “Mama?” She called, surprised that mama was not sitting by the fire like she normally did. Every night Lyanna needed her, she would be there in her solar. Either reading some papers or sewing something. And whenever mama saw her standing in the door, she’d set whatever she had been working on down, and open her arms wide. 

If there was any good thing about being scared or dealing with something she didn’t like, it was running to mama and having the best hug ever. Mama could wrap her arms all the way around Lyanna and keep everything scary away. Mama could make anything and everything better. But right now, she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. “Mama!” She cried, slightly louder, pulling on the door to mama’s bedroom, only to find that as empty as her solar.

It didn’t make sense. Not really. Every time Lyanna needed her at night, she could find mama somewhere in these rooms. But now, she wasn’t there and Lyanna had no idea where she could be. The rain splattered against the window. Short heavy breaths filled her lungs while she spun around herself. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Mama had to be here. Somewhere. She had to be. “Mama!” 

This didn’t even look like mama’s rooms right now. There were raven scrolls and a map on the normally clean desk, and a fur pile on the floor at the foot of the bed, extra boots next to the dresser, and a sword leaning against a wall by a long dark cloak. Father. His stuff was all here, which meant father must be using these rooms too. 

Her eyes fell on the small table to the side which held an empty pitcher and two glasses. The kitchens. That could make sense. Mama needed water and ran out. She’d be down in the kitchens. It was the only other place she could be. She could think about why father’s things were in mama’s rooms another time. 

Without a second’s more pause, Lyanna was running down the hall again. She could cut through the library and make it there all the faster. This time she passed two maids and a guard, but their calls could not stop Lyanna now. It was bad enough that the storm was threatening Winterfell, but she had also forgotten Little Silver on her bedside table in her fear. She had left her all alone but Lyanna couldn’t go back now. She had to find mama. She had to. 

The library was near the kitchens and the doors on opposite ends of the large room provided the best shortcut. Since it was so late, Lyanna wasn't expecting to see anyone reading amongst the shelves, but tonight was the night for the unexpected. She heard the voices right as she rounded the corner into the library, but it wasn’t until she saw the people sitting around the large table in the open space that she connected there were a lot of people in the library right now. 

As soon as she realized that she’d be running into some sort of a meeting she tried to put the brakes on her run. Gasping, Lyanna grabbed the doorsill to come to a full stop, only barely stepping into the room. It hadn’t been a quiet stop though, and it gathered the attention of the people in the room. She didn’t know most the people collected there and that almost frightened her more than the storm. 

Father stood at the head of the table, scrolls, and books laid open in front of him. He had both hands on the table and was leaning forward on it. At least until he saw her standing in the doorway. He then stood up, her name a whisper on his lips. Surrounding him were the lords and the kingsgaurd who always seemed to follow him. Maester Tarly was there which made at least one familiar face.

But then Lyanna spotted a head of long red hair seated on the other side of Father turning to glance at the doorway. She knew exactly what that meant. A flash of lightning lit up the room and the thunder followed quickly after that, making Lyanna jump about a foot in the air. Before she knew it, she was running again, crying and whimpering, “Mama.” 

Mama was already pushing her chair out for Lyanna to jump into her lap, “Oh, my darling, oh has the storm frightened you?” she asked, helping as Lyanna climbed up and threw her arms around mama’s neck. Lyanna was crying now, in front of all of these people, but she didn’t care. She finally had mama, and mama would make everything better. 

“The window came open an’ everything got in an’ I tried to find you an’ you weren’t there!” Lyanna sniveled, leaning away so mama could hear her right. The second she finished she buried her head back into mama’s neck. 

Rubbing her back, Mama stood up and began rocking and shushing her, moving towards the fire in the room. "Shush, there, there, little one, it's alright, Mama has you."

The rain wasn’t as loud in the library as it is on the first floor, and with mama’s hums, Lyanna could almost not hear it. She was still sobbing though and panting from her dash through the halls of Winterfell. The fire felt nice and Lyanna realized that she had left with no shoes and no shawl. She had goosebumps running up and down her arms and legs under her nightgown. 

Father’s voice addressed everyone else in the room, “Let’s continue this tomorrow. It’s late. Jamie, Brienne can you check on the guards on duty? Make sure they have what they need for the storm.” There was a lot of shuffling and people muttering their goodnights. Lyanna refused to look up though and just assumed everyone was leaving. Mama was stroking her hair now, continuing to comfort her. 

"Do you want me to check on the princess' room, your grace?" A gruff voice asked.

“No, thank you, Davos, the Queen and I will handle it," Father responded, sounding like he was shuffling papers. “Good night milords.” A few more lords chimed their farewell, and Lyanna was certain the room must be mostly empty at this point. 

Mama had switched to a lullaby some point and Lyanna’s sobs had subdued slightly. “Is she alright?” Father asked. Lyanna could hear him moving, shuffling some chairs around. She sniffled again and buried her face closer to Mama's neck. She could feel Mama return to favor and set her cheek on top of Lyanna’s head. 

She could feel mama nodded her head “I bet it’s her window latch. We need to get that fixed. It does not stand up to wind.” Father must have pulled a chair over because mama went to sit down but they stayed close to the warm fire. “Shh, there, there.”

“Aye, tomorrow I’ll take a look," Father responded.

Lyanna took a few deep breaths and leaned away from mama so she could look at her. She was still crying a little, but not a whole lot and had caught her breath. It was just her, mama, and father in the library. “Where were you?” Lyanna asked, wiping her face with one hand. 

Mama ran a hand through her hair, from her forehead, all the way down her back, “What do you mean little one?” Sometime during the evening, the braid mama had put in her hair had come undone and her long brown hair was wild and tangled. Mama was trying her best to make it right again.

The library was empty, save for mama, father, and Lyanna herself. She and mama sat angled on one side of the fire, while father stood leaning against the wall on the other side, watching the two of them. Lyanna decided not to focus on him, but instead just on mama. “Your rooms. I went to your rooms an’ you weren’t there. You’re always there.” Lyanna pouted. 

Mama tsked once and the frowned, her eyes glancing over to Father, "Oh Lyanna, I’m sorry. I was working with your father. There is a lot to do now that he has returned, and we’ve been having to work late.” 

Well, that seemed silly. Mama had been running Winterfell by herself for as long as Lyanna could remember and she was still in her rooms every night. Now that father is back, shouldn’t he be helping her? They should be done even earlier, and mama would be where she’s supposed to be. “Why do you need his help now? You never need help and you never work late.” 

Mama glanced back at father again, her frown now replaced with the smallest of smiles, somehow enjoying what Lyanna had said. Well, that made no sense. This was very serious. The thunder and lightning were happening more frequently and Lyanna’s heart felt like it was beating as fast as the rain was coming down. Father coughed once and then came to kneel by the chair. Lyanna watched his every movement, leaning back into mama. She didn’t know how she felt about father, if she just didn’t like him, or if she was a little scared of him. He did help with Benjen took her things, but he also always working and had a sad looking face. The one thing Lyanna didn’t like was how much Father was with Mama. It wasn’t fair. 

"I'm not helping mama; you're right she doesn't need help," Father told her as he laid a hand on Lyanna’s back. His hand was heavy and hot, not at all like mama's hand still running through her tangles. Father and mama were looking at each other and much to Lyanna’s annoyance, he was smiling as well. If she wasn’t too focused on them not taking this seriously then she would have noted that he had a nice smile. “Mama is actually helping me. I need her help, is it okay if she helps me sometimes?” 

Thinking long and hard, Lyanna nestled closer to mama instead of answering. Normally, Robb and Benjen handled answering questions as Lyanna was the youngest and those two were very opinionated. Besides, she knew they were looking for a yes, but all Lyanna wanted to say was no. 

Robb was the heir and had Ser Hador, all his other tutors, and now Lord Davos to dot on him and help him and be there for him. Benjen was Maester Tarly's favorite and most recently had taken quite a shining to Ser Jamie and Ser Podrick. Plus, they were both boys and father would surely be taking care of them as well. 

All Lyanna had was Mama. There wasn't a nurse here anymore, and since Lyanna was still too young to start lessons, there was no tutor for her. If she wasn’t with her brothers, Lyanna would be with Mama, watching her work and run Winterfell. Mama called her, her little shadow. She was also the only girl which she was pretty certain made her mama’s favorite and she didn’t want to share. 

There was a long moment in the library where no one said a thing. It was until the thunder clapped again that father reacted, pulling his hand off Lyanna’s back. The mood had shifted considerably. She felt mama sigh deeply and then stand up. “Let’s get you back to bed, shall we darling?” 

Even though the last thing she wanted to do was go back to her room, she stayed quiet and let herself be carried out of the library. “Do you want me to take her?” 

Father was following them, which was not what Lyanna wanted but again, she stayed quiet. She only tightened her grip on Mama, not willing to go to father that easy.  
Mama didn’t say anything, but Lyanna figured she was probably mouthing something to father. She was very good at that, able to stop Benjen from causing trouble from clear across the courtyard with single mouthed ‘no’. 

Father stayed with them the way to Lyanna’s room. While mama was laying her back down and adjusting her furs, father dealt with the room. He closed the window and fiddled with the latch, tying it off with some cord he had pulled from one of his pockets. He also tended to the fire in the corner as well as relighting her candle, tapping Little Silver who had remained right where she had left her. “There.” Mother smiled, “That’s all better isn’t it?” 

She couldn't find the words to answer and simply shrugged instead. Father was already standing in the doorway, ready to leave. Mama went to stand as well, rubbing Lyanna’s forehead. 

“Mama wait, stay please.” Lyanna pleaded, pouting up at mama. There was no way she was going to fall asleep anytime soon and she wanted mama to be with her. Mama so rarely said no to her when she would ask, and this time was no surprise. Mama sat right back down. 

"For a few minutes, and then I have to go to bed as well," Mama said, continuing to rub her forehead.

Father continued to stand in the doorway, watching them. Lyanna didn’t like that. He already had taken up so much time with mama and now he was still here. Lyaanna waved mama to lean in closer to her. “Make him go?” She whispered, hoping that Father wouldn’t hear her, but it wasn’t as quiet as she would have liked, and he definitely heard her.

Mama leaned back, a breath escaping her in shock, “Lyanna, that is not very nice!” 

“It’s alright, I already disrupted. Goodnight Lyanna.” Father’s face wasn’t sad or mad, just a nothing face as he closed the door. Mama was disappointed, casting her eyes down at Lyanna, but as promised, she stayed with Lyanna, rubbing her forehead and singing softly. 

Lyanna tried her best to go sleep, but it didn’t come with mama in the room, or shortly after she left. The storm was still loud, and the window was rattling again. She was not going to sleep in this room tonight at all. As soon as the window’s rattling got louder, Lyanna left the room again, taking care to grab Little Silver this time. This time though, she had a very different destination in mind. Robb’s room. It was just a door down from hers and she slipped into the room. 

Walking over to his bed, she tried to wake him, “Robb, Robb!” He didn’t stir though until Lyanna shook his shoulder. 

“L-anna? What are- what time is it?” He asked between yawns and rubbing his eyes. 

She shrugged, “Dunno, The storm’s scary.” 

Robb flopped down on the bed and turned away, trying to get comfortable again. “Then go to mother. You always go to mother.” 

But she couldn’t go to mama’s rooms, not anymore. Father confused her too much and until she figured him out, she was going to keep her space. Lyanna didn't say anything until the lightning flashed again. The thunder was getting quieter though, thankfully. “Father’s there.” Is all she said, barely above a whisper. It was so quiet that she wasn’t even certain if Robb had heard her until he turned back to her and lifted a corner of his blanket.


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon laments while Sansa tries to make him think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back!  
> Here it is! The much-awaited Jon POV chapter. I hope you enjoy and this answers many of your questions.  
> Thank you for all of your continued support!  
> P.S. Please see the end for an important author's note

Part IV Jon

Jon crossed his arms as he stared out the window of the solar, he and Sansa share. It was pitch black outside, and the torches that would normally illuminate the yard were out due to the storm. He could only really see his reflection and the rain splatters on the window glass. 

The door opened and closed behind him. Without looking away from the window, Jon knew it was Sansa returning from laying Lyanna down again. “They hate me.” He sighed, wiping his mouth once. He could feel her entire presence in the room, not needing to look at her to know she was tidying up the room. 

“They don’t hate you.” Her voice was sweet, and annoyingly level right now as if she didn’t see the way the children would look at him. Jon turned away from the window to send a long stare at his wife. She stopped straightening the papers he had been working on this morning to meet his gaze. 

Her blue eyes were piercing as usual, and Jon found it hard to hold her gaze for too long. Instead, he sighed loudly and went to fall into one of the two chairs by the fire. “They do too hate me. My own kin.” He half expected Sansa to come and sit by him, but she simply continued to tend to the room. The fire needed more wood, but Jon just sat there, watching the dying flames. Silence fell over the solar, save the rain on the window, and the crackle of the embers. His head felt heavy, so he used an arm to keep it propped up. 

The exhaustion he felt was near unbearable, more than on the war front. He had only been home for a week, but every moment was full of dealing with the aftermath of their victory. There was the treaty to negotiate with the southern delegates that would be arriving within the month, soldiers wanting compensation, people with damaged lands, as well as lords and ladies to be updated and the farmers trying to develop new trade laws. Someone was always wanting something from the king now that he was returned. Jon was honestly sick of it. Moments like these made him long for the days of past, simpler days before the Northmen named him their king.

Plus, there were his three children that he always seemed to do wrong by. He either said or did something that upset him or the children. He could tell how they were all avoiding him right now. Some father he was. He did what he thought was best in the moment, and it always caused him regrets. No matter the decision, if it dealt with his children, it was somehow, always, the wrong thing to do. Every thought he had when Sansa was first pregnant about being a terrible father was coming to fruition. 

Of all the pressures he had on him, the three heaviest were his three children and not disappointing them. There were days he wonders how he got to this point at all. When he took the black, lands, children, titles were something he knew he’d never have. Jump forward a few years and he’s died, come back to life, fought for his home, named king, and fought the dead, somehow surviving it all. He now has land, he has the title, and he has a wife. Even with all that has happened, the most surprising remains the three times Sansa has brought new life. His children. 

There’s a small part of him that doesn’t believe they are his. Not that Sansa would ever be unfaithful, but he’s surprised that whatever gods out there would allow him to father children. Who was he to pass anything on to the next generation? It isn’t until he sees a hint of himself in them that he believes they are his. It’s in Robb’s face and hair, Benjen’s smirk, and Lyanna’s eyes. He doesn’t deserve them. That much he knows. And they certainly deserve better than him.

A cool touch pulled him out of his deep thoughts. Sansa had taken off her gloves and was rubbing his cheek as she passed his chair. She leaned down to feed more wood to the fire, pausing only to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Sometime during Jon’s sulk, she had taken the elaborate half-bun out of her hair. 

"They don't hate you, Jon." Sansa reiterated, poking the fire to urge it to grow. "And you are not a terrible father." Standing up, she wiped her hands on her skirt, satisfied with the much larger fire in the hearth.

Jon tried to laugh, but came out all breathy, “How’d you-?” It was like his wife could read his thoughts as if it was another one of her books.

"I know you, Jon. And I know what your brooding face looks like and when you brood about our children, there is only one thing it could be about. That ridiculous notation that you are not a good father.” Sansa berated, coming to stand behind him. She expertly undid the leather knot holding back his hair. He should know by now to just assume Sansa is one of the, if not the, smartest person in the room. 

The tension in his scalp began to alleviate the second she loosened the knot and was aided further when she started to comb her fingers through his curls. Her touch was healing, a calming force in Jon’s stressors. “You are a great father. Truly. The children, well, they were just so young Jon. Two years is a very long time for them. Now you are back, and everything has changed. They’re adjusting, just like you.” 

Grunting, he acknowledged her point. It must have felt like he had been gone for quite a while and since his return, Winterfell had fallen into a craze. Their home had been shaken, and everyone, including Jon, was feeling that. “I know.” He whispered, eyes still trained on the fire. “It was so much easier when they were younger if you kept them fed and warm, they were happy with you. Now, I don’t even know them.” 

Sansa laughed, “That’s what happens with children, they grow up, develop personalities. They are their own people now and make their own judgments.” Jon resisted the urge to roll his eyes, letting out a scoff as Sansa made another good point. Lyanna was just a babe when he left, and Benjen followed whatever his brother did at that age. And Robb was easy to win over at the age of seven, easily impressed by anything Jon did. They were used to him as a father then but now it is as if they are all strangers.

“You just need to let them get to know you again and get used to having you around again. That’s all.” Sansa’s hands left his scalp, much to Jon’s displeasure. It was one of the best feelings and always was gone too soon. “Be patient, with them and with yourself.” Her hand traced down to his shoulder as she walked around him to sit in the chair next to his. 

Jon leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, groaning into his hands. He hadn’t been sleeping all too well lately, uncertain if it was the stress of returning or the stress of dealing with his children keeping him up at night. “I know Sansa, I know. It’s just not that simple. Robb is just waiting for me to mess up.” Jon began. Sansa opened her mouth to say something, but he lifted a finger, pausing her, “No, don’t, you should see the way he watches me. Then Lyanna clearly doesn’t want me anywhere near her.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, “Well you did forget to greet her when you first returned.” She pointed out, raising one eyebrow. When he looked back, Jon knew he hadn’t handled that situation at all and probably upset his children greatly that cloudy day.

“I didn’t forget, I just, I got caught off-.” Jon sighed deeply, his words failing him. “I, uh, Benjen, well, he looks-, the gods are truly punishing me with him.” He finally stammered. He felt remorseful admitting it, but his youngest son is a ghost from Jon’s past. 

“Jon!” Sansa berated, quickly moving to kneel in front of him, grabbing both of his hands. “Don’t ever say that.” She must know exactly where his mind jumped to when he first saw his youngest son again. At first glance, Benjen bares an eery similarity to Rickon, the one Jon couldn’t save. It was his dirty blonde hair that was constantly a mess and his smile. Benjen’s eyes though were an entirely different story. Originally grey at birth had slowly changed over the years to a much more violet hue. Targaryen eyes. 

“He has his smile and her eyes.” Jon’s voice was barely above a whisper as he buried his head into his hands. Of all his emotions, guilt was the most prevalent with his younger son. It was like Benjen was meant to be a constant reminder of Jon’s mistakes. He didn’t want that, he just wanted to be able to see his son. 

“Benjen is not Rickon. Nor is he Daenerys. He is Benjen, your son. He is curious, headstrong and broods exactly the way you do. He is so smart, the smartest out of the three. And yes, he may be a troublemaker but more than anything he just wants to make people smile. See him for that, not for them.” Sansa lectured, keeping a hand on either of his knees. She was anchoring him from his guilty thoughts. 

She wasn’t finished though and continued, “Our children are made up of both of us. Me just as much as you. Our merits and our flaws. They have them both, but they do not bare our sins unless you give them. We fought to give them a new world and we won. They get to grow up unburdened but only if you let them. The past is not your legacy Jon, they are.” Sansa paused, causing Jon to look up at his wife. She had tears in her eyes despite her strong jaw refusing to quiver. 

“I don’t know what to do Sansa, it’s like I don’t know how to be a father anymore,” Jon admitted. “I know I’m disappointing them, I don’t mean to, but I don’t know. Compared to you, I must look a fool” 

She scoffed, “Do you think I always know what to do? I’m not a perfect mother Jon. I’m not. There were days I had to put being a queen over being a mother and I feel guilty and then I’m too lenient with the boys and coddle Lyanna. I’m not perfect, but I am there for them when they need me.” While Jon had been down at the war front, Sansa had been tasked with taking care of their children as well as Winterfell and the North. Jon helped the best he could from the border, but he also had a war to deal with. He couldn’t even imagine the strength and grace Sansa must have had to run their country and keep and raise their children. 

Brushing back his hair, Sansa could see the despair written on his face and softened her voice to match. “They just want their father. It’s all Robb and Benjen would talk about. They are desperate to impress you. They idolized you. Robb doesn’t wait for you to mess up, he wants to be you. He takes being your heir very seriously. Benjen is going to test you. He’s probably the hardest to win over out of the three of but he will come. Lyanna, well, she is cautious but sweet, and just needs time. Just be there, for all of them.” 

Jon was shaking as he processed her words. They were heavy and weighed on Jon’s mind. It was difficult to focus on any one thing, so he decided to close his eyes again and lean back in the chair. From the rustle of the skirt and deepness of her sigh, Sansa must be standing up to move. Her hand laid on his shoulder, “You need more sleep Jon, come to bed. You’ll have a fresher mind in the morning.” 

Sleep was the one thing he wanted more than anything, but he knew it wasn’t going to come easy tonight. “I know. I’ll be in soon.” Opening his eyes to his wife standing next to him, he tried to smile. She knew though and saw straight through his lie. Tilting her head down, she fixed a gentle glare his direction. “Honest.” 

It was an empty promise, but neither of them acted on it. Instead, he grabbed her hand and twisted it so he could press his lips to the outside of her hand. Letting his lips linger, he hoped she could tell how he appreciated her words. If there was one thing he could count on Sansa for, it’s keeping him grounded and saying what needed to be said. No matter how hard it was. 

She reached up to stroke Jon’s cheek once more before weaving through the chairs to the door of their bedroom. He tracked her every movement, wondering how he could be so lucky to have her. She didn’t solve the problem of their children but at least for tonight, she kept him from spiraling. Pausing at the doorway, she rested her head on the doorsill, apparently having more words to say. 

“Jon,” her voice was considerably softer and for a moment, looked not like the queen she has become, but the girl who had returned to the North all those years ago, just wanting to save her family. "Please try with them. The three of them are smarter than you think and certainly more perceptive. I think they will surprise you. Please just give them a chance."

He wanted to say something more, but words failed, and she ducked into their bedroom, tired from the long day. Sansa was right, as she normally was, and Jon reasoned that maybe her mission of just wanting to save her family wasn’t as over as he thought. There was still work to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!  
> I hope you enjoyed but I do want to address two things.  
> 1\. I know that by five, most kids eye colors won't change but I needed it to work, so yeah, Benjen's eyes totally changed colors after he was five. So we are just running with it.  
> 2\. I don't really want to get into what happened with Jon and Dany in this universe as I want to save that for another story but I know people probably have questions. So, a quick little summary without too much detail, Jon and Dany never fell in love but did share a family type of love. She also died after taking Kings Landing. I'm not saying whether or not Jon killed her but he still feels guilt over her death.  
> Thanks for reading! Please comment or leave a kudos!


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb struggles in swords class and deals with the fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!  
> So I had some struggles finding the plot again with this piece. It is not at all going in the route that I originally thought it would. But, after a lot of writing and rewriting, I finally found it again and should (hopefully) be posting regularly again.  
> This chapter is very Robb centric and sets up the conflict for the next few chapters. I did not go very in-depth into researching the houses of the North (alliance, who survived the Long Night etc) so if I got something wrong, apologies.

Part V- Robb  
Groaning, Robb pushed himself back into a sitting position, glaring at his opponent. Bryden Ryswell stood above him, laughing alongside Little Sam. Bryden extended his hand but Robb was in no mood to accept help from the boy who had been beating him in every spar this morning. Instead, he grabbed his wooden sword from where he dropped it moments ago and got ready to go again.

Every morning, Robb was in the training yard with other sons of the Northern lords who were visiting court currently, practicing their sword work under the watchful eye of Ser Hador and Ser Brienne. Most of the other boys were older and were here to prove their skills now that Father had returned. Robb was amongst the youngest, with Bryden Ryswell, Jeor Flint, and Arthur Glover. Little Sam was older than the four boys but was helping them at the request of Ser Hador. 

Sword practice was not something Robb enjoyed, primarily because he was so bad at it. He knew the basics of handling his sword and felt confident with those movements. However, the second he sparred against someone; his skills turned pitiful. They had only just started sparring with an opponent a few months ago, and during that time, he’d only won a handful of spars. It was frustrating and the more frustrated he got, the worse he did. 

“Let’s go.” Robb spat, wiping the sweat from his forehead, glaring at Bryden. He was definitely angry now, which meant he was almost sure to lose the next one too, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get through the last bit of practice. Bryden swallowed, his laughter trailing off as he and Little Sam glanced at each other. 

“Sure you want another round? I’ve whooped you six times as it is.” Bryden grinned, twisting his sword as the two boys circled each other. Other pairs continued to spar around them, but Robb wasn’t focused on that. The grunts, groans, and smacking of wooden swords were just background noise against Robb’s anger. 

Robb knew that everyone expected him to be good with a sword, especially now that Father had returned. Father trained every day with the king’s guard which meant all of Winterfell got to see the skills that made him the best in the North. People called Father the greatest swordsman alive and immediately turned to Robb to see if the skills had been passed along. 

Unfortunately for Robb, they had not, and the boys in the swords class raved about how they could easily beat him in a spar. It only fueled Robb’s anger and resentment towards swords. Thankfully, Father had been so busy that he hadn’t had the chance to see Robb lose in person and if it were up to him, it would stay that way. 

Just when Robb prepared to charge, Ser Hador ordered, “Stop your matches!” He clapped his hands to make sure all the trainees heard him. “Show your respect!” The boy's attention snapped to where Ser Hador greeted someone. Robb raised up on his tiptoes to see what Ser Hador was talking about. 

Glancing in between two of the older boys, Robb saw the last thing he wanted to. Father, standing next to Sers Hador, Jamie, and Brienne. The idea of showing his pitiful swords skills to him, made Robb feel sick to his stomach. While the other boys bowed their heads, Robb was trying to figure out if he could leave without being detected. He didn’t need Father knowing how much a disappointment he was.

Father waved his hand, “Continue as you were, please.” Ser Jamie whispered something to Father, but Robb had no idea what it could possibly be. He then turned his attention to the closest sparring match, watching closely. If Robb had to guess, Father would spend a few moments with each pair before moving on. That meant Father would be by him and Bryden before he knew it and then he would see firsthand how bad Robb’s skills were. 

Robb began a mantra in his head, even mumbling it under his breath, “I have to win.” Robb gulped and adjusted his grip on the sword. If Father had the chance to see him, then Robb needed to make him proud. One spar, timed right. That’s all he needed to do.

“What do you want me to do? Throw the match?” Bryden asked. Robb flinched and snapped his eyes to his opponent. He thought he had whispered it to himself, but apparently Bryden had heard him. 

Robb shook his head, “That wasn’t what I was saying.” He was just talking to himself, not meaning for Bryden to hear any of it. Bryden had a reputation for being a jerk, so he probably had the wrong idea now. “It’s just, he’s my father. I can’t disappoint him.” Robb explained, twitching his nose once.

“And my father’s over there. I can’t disappoint him. I’m not taking it easy on you!” Bryden shrugged, fixing a glare on his face. He lifted his wooden sword, ready to spar again. Robb matched his motion. Darting his eyes around, he checked on Father, now only two groups away.

Bryden definitely got the wrong idea, and Robb knew he would waste no time in spreading a rumor about him. “I wasn’t asking you to! I wasn’t even talking to you!” Robb clarified as the two boys began circling each other. 

“It’s not my fault that you are terrible at sparring.” Bryden narrowed his glare on Robb, a smirk on his smug face. Robb focused entirely on the other boy, trying to swallow his anger. Mother told him constantly he needed to keep his emotions under control, but right now, he was failing. 

“Some prince you are, begging to win matches. More like a coward.” Bryden’s eyebrows bounced up and down while Robb wondered how hard it would be to rip one of those eyebrows off. 

“Don’t call me a coward!” Robb’s stomach sank, a hollow ringing echoing in his ears. He had lost track of Father, but Robb didn’t care. He probably should care as he didn’t even want to imagine how upset Father would be if he heard Bryden call him a coward. Instead, all he could focus on was stupid Bryden. “And I wasn’t begging.”

“I bet you aren’t even a prince. I bet your real father isn’t the king and is some deserter who was too scared to fight in the Long Night. You’re a coward and a bastard!” Bryden spat and the empty feeling in Robb’s stomach was replaced by rage. 

They were supposed to be civil and chivalrous during swords lesson. Some of the boys were training to be knights, and Ser Hador wanted all the boys to behave accordingly. The rules about behavior were firm and had serious consequences for breaking them, but at that moment, Robb didn’t care. He threw down his wooden sword and tackled Bryden straight into the dirt. 

Both boys grunted as they hit the ground and Robb made quick work to roll over and start smacking Bryden’s face. Spars were not Robb’s forte, but fighting, fighting he could do. Fighting was quick, dirty, and lacked the rules and techniques that sparing had. All Robb had to do was be scrappier and more determined and he would win. 

Like how he was winning now. He had Bryden pinned down and got two good punches in before being pulled off him. “Let me go!” Robb yelled, still burning with anger at Bryden. His words were still running through his head.

“Stop it right this instance! Explain yourselves.” Ser Hador had stomped over, yelling at them but it had been Ser Brienne who pulled Robb off. She gently pushed him back a few paces, trying to create distance between the two. Bryden rolled over but didn’t get up, using both hands to cover his face.

“You take it back! Take it back right now!” Robb yelled, not caring that they had drawn a lot of attention to themselves. He didn’t even take notice of who was around them now. Bryden sprang off the ground, blood dripping out of his nose which mixed with the tears running down his face. 

“No, and I bet it’s not just you. Your brother and sister are too!” Bryden spat out, angrily wiping away his tears. Robb hated him at this moment more than anything. His siblings weren’t even here to defend themselves. 

The ringing in Robb’s ears returned as he let out a deep cry before lunging forward towards Bryden again. He didn’t get very far before Ser Brienne yanked him back again and Ser Hador moved between the boys. 

“What on earth got into you boys?” Ser Brienne knelt on one knee, getting closer to the boy’s height, glancing in between them. Ser Hador seemed positively furious, his face turning a bright red color, like a hot fire about to burn over. It seemed as if time had stopped in the courtyard and all eyes were trained on the two boys as various people flocked over to get a better view.

Robb wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, taking notice of how it stung. His fingers hurt and even his wrist ached. He couldn’t win a spar, but Robb could apparently throw a punch. Judging by the amount of blood flowing out of Bryden’s nose, Robb wondered if he actually broke his nose or not. 

“He just attacked my boy! You all saw.” Lord Ryswell had an arm around Bryden and a rag pressed up against his bloody nose. “For no reason!” 

Ser Brienne popped up and began to reason with Lord Ryswell, “Now, I’m sure there’s a reason.” As the adults spoke, Robb just watched Bryden and took time to glare at each other boy in his group. While there was a reason, Robb was not about to snitch, and hopefully, each boy who could have heard wouldn’t snitch either. 

The truth could potentially help Robb, so no way Bryden and his friends would say anything. But Robb didn’t want it to get back to Father. Father was probably going to be mad at him already and hearing what Bryden claimed would most certainly make it worse. What if Father agreed that Robb was a coward? So, Robb kicked the dirt and kept his mouth shut. 

“It’s inexcusable, I will not have troublemakers in my class!” Ser Hador spurted, pacing around and shaking a finger. Robb hated being yelled at, especially since he had thrown the first punch. He knew he should have tried harder to keep his calm and now he was going to have to face the consequences. It would take days for the knotted feeling in his stomach to disperse completely. 

“I trust the instigator will be punished.” Lord Ryswell sneered at down at him. It took nearly all of Robb’s self-control not to stick his tongue out. Bryden had started it but Robb knew that Lord Ryswell would hear nothing of the sort. All that everyone probably cared about was who threw the first punch, even though Robb knew that Bryden deserved every punch.

The adults stiffened and Robb’s stomach sank further. If the adults were getting nervous that meant one thing, Father must be close. That meant the trouble Robb was currently in was about to increase tenfold. He swallowed once but it got caught in his throat, doing nothing to qualm his nerves.

A hand grabbed Robb’s shoulder and he didn’t need to look up to know who it was, “It sounds as if my son is not completely at fault here.” Father stood directly behind Robb, so he couldn’t see his face, but his grip felt strong and almost protective. Robb thought for certain Father would be mad at him, but here he stood, almost defending him. 

Lord Ryswell’s face turned a bright red color to match Ser Hador’s. He looked as if he wanted to say something but remained silent. Father’s hand remained constant on Robb’s shoulder. Ser Brienne fixed a look with a raised eyebrow, directed at Father but didn’t say anything. 

“Both boys will be disciplined.” Ser Hador stated, looking once at Robb and then at Bryden. “Both boys shared the fight, both boys will share the punishment. Two weeks helping the stable hands after class. As a start. And if you fight again, you’ll be out of my class.” 

Robb glared at Bryden one more time before stomping off towards the exit, pushing father’s hand off his shoulder. Heat burned from the back of his neck, through his cheeks. Apart of him wanted to cry, the other part wanted to go and finish rearranging Bryden’s face. Right now, he settled for just getting away from everyone for once. Technically, a half-hour of lesson still remained, but he didn’t care. He was already in trouble; how much worse could it get? 

“Robb.” Father. Apparently, it could get worse. Father gestured with two fingers for Robb to come back towards him. Thankfully, Father had moved away from the training yard and by the sidewall. Out of the way of most people and their paths, it served as the only seminice of privacy. 

Spars resumed and Bryden walked by, his head tipped back, and the bloody rag held to his face by his father. The two boys glared at each other as Robb went towards his father, dragging his feet with every step. 

Father held Robb’s wooden practice sword. He had thrown it when he tackled Bryden and completely forgot about it. A bit of mud caked the fake blade, which Father brushed off, “Don’t forget this. A good warrior always knows where his weapon is.” He handed it to him, nodding once. 

“Right.” Robb grabbed the sword, looking down at the dirt. He knew this conversation was far from over, no matter how much he wanted to be alone.  
Father leaned down a little bit, ducking his head. “What did Bryden say to you?” Robb twitched his nose to the side and kept his eyes on the ground. He must have heard the end of their fight after Ser Brienne pulled them apart. There was no way he was going to tell Father what Bryden had said. No matter how much Father stared. 

“It sounded like he called you something. You and your siblings. What was it?” Father sighed, adjusting his question. He probably thought it would make it easy for Robb to answer, but it didn’t. 

Instead, Robb just stared up at Father. Both Lyanna and Benjen never seemed to shut up, but Robb could stay quiet for hours. If he didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t going to and right now he didn’t want to talk. Besides, he wouldn’t probably start crying if he started to talk and he was not going to cry in front of Father and be more of a disappointment. 

But Father didn’t budge either, just kept watching him, waiting for him to crack. After a silent moment, Robb shrugged his shoulders up and then darted his eyes away, silently willing for Father to get distracted by something or someone. With Father being king, that meant Robb shouldn’t have to wait long. 

“Robb, I-.” A young page boy came running up, interrupting Father’s next thought. Turns out Robb wouldn’t have to wait long at all. 

“Apologies Your Grace, Lord Davos is requesting you see him.” The page huffed. Father glanced up at the sky and sighed deeply. 

“Tell Lord Davos I will see him soon. I am occupied currently.” Father pointed his stare back to Robb, but it had already lost some intensity. Some part of Father’s brain had already shifted its focus to whatever Lord Davos needed. 

The page shuffled his feet, “Um, Lord Davos insisted it should be now.” 

Father let out a groan as Robb resisted the urge to smirk. In another moment he would be able to disappear and be alone. Finally. “Fine.” Father snapped, turning to follow the page. They didn’t get more than about two steps away before Father turned back, “Robb, I can’t help you unless you talk to me.” 

Father’s expression had completely changed into one of sorrow, his eyebrows knitted together. It confused Robb to see such a genuine emotion on Father’s face. For a moment Robb believed that Father actually wanted to help him. His lips pursed together as he started to weigh the consequences of telling Father what happened. But then Bryden’s words rang in his head again. 

_“You’re a coward and a bastard!”_

Any help Father was willing to give would disappear if he knew that. Bad enough to be called a coward, but a coward’s bastard was even worse. People used to always tell him that he had his Father’s looks, the most out of any of his siblings. Now, looking up at him a few paces away, Robb struggled to find similarities. His stomach sank as an awful thought crossed his mind. What if Bryden was right about him being a bastard? 

“Your Grace?” The page whispered, urging Father along. He stayed there, looking at Robb for one moment more, probably waiting for Robb to crack and tell him everything. Robb watched the battlements instead, waiting for him to leave. Finally, Father turned away and took off after the page.

Robb felt sick and frozen in his place. Clutching the wooden sword to his chest he pondered the implications if Bryden was right. It couldn’t be right? Could it? It wasn't. Robb knew it wasn't. It's impossible, but no matter how many times Robb told himself that, he couldn’t shake the thought. 

Ser Brienne walked up, her hands clasped behind her back and joined him in watching Father leave. “You may have gotten your Father’s stubbornness, but I hope you learn to keep that temper in check.” Her words made him snap his attention to her. Robb had to squint up into the bright sun to see the tall knight’s face. Hopefully, he could blame the tears building in his eyes on the sun, rather than her words. 

Without warning, Robb turned away and ran out of the training yard. He stopped for nothing, only slowing once he reached the doors of Winterfell. A million thoughts coursed through his mind. A lot of lords had bastards. Lord Ryswell himself had one. Robb had heard Lady Ryswell complaining about it to Mother one day. If a lord could have one, could a king? What about a coward? Could a king’s heir be a coward? 

The walls of the hall felt smaller than usual as Robb tried to push the thought out of his mind, constantly thinking of how foolish it was. There was no way Bryden’s words had any correctness. No way. He knew who he was and it was not what Bryden claimed him to be. 

Robb paused in the hallway, glancing down at the sword clutched in his hands. A paleness surrounded his knuckles and his breath came out in heavy gulps. “I am Robb Stark, prince of the North and heir to the throne." He whispered to himself, "Not a coward. Not a bastard.” If only he could convince the doubts in his mind of that. With shaking legs, he continued down the hall at a much slower pace.

His thoughts took his whole focus and he didn’t realize that he was no longer alone in the hall. “Is it true you beat up Bryden Ryswell?” Robb flinched at the sound of his brother’s voice racing towards him. 

Benjen had seemingly appeared by Robb, wanting to keep up with him for the latest piece of gossip. Tiny footsteps joined them as Lyanna caught up and grabbed hold of Robb’s jerkin. The siblings flanked Robb and there was no escaping them as they turned down a new hall. There'd be no escaping his siblings now.

“I see that the maids wasted no time in spreading it.” Robb sighed, hating how his voice shook. He knew full well that one of the kitchen maids probably saw the quarrel and reported it to anyone who would listen. Everyone knew if you wanted the latest court gossip, the maids knew it all.

The halls still felt small but now seemed warm and stuffy but maybe it was just Robb still burning from the fight. If he saw stupid Bryden’s face again right now, Robb would most certainly tackle him again. No matter what he focused on, he kept replaying the fight in his head. Frustration and anger turned his stomach as Bryden’s voice still rang in his ears. 

_“You’re a coward and a bastard!”_

Robb wanted to be alone and scream or cry or throw something until he felt better. But Benjen and Lyanna stayed close to him, keeping him from the quiet he so deeply craved. Benjen crossed his hands behind his head and leaned into like how Little Sam would do it during lessons with Maester Tarly. 

“I would have paid to see it.” Benjen declared a grin laced on his face. Robb resisted the urge to shove his brother to hopefully get rid of his smug face. Benjen seemed oblivious to Robb’s emotions and inner turmoil. “What’d you do? Blacken his eye? Bloody his nose? Break his wrist?” 

Benjen spoke with a lightness in his voice that was entirely too happy for Robb to handle. He turned to silence his brother with a strong glare, but Benjen didn't even notice it. Benjen saw this as a joke but he didn’t have two weeks of stable duty because of it. Robb knew he messed up, and hearing Benjen rejoice drove him up a wall. 

To his left, his sister struggled to keep up with the boys and their much longer legs. She followed a few paces behind, her arm extended and her tiny fist full of Robb’s jerkin to keep him from running off. She had to lurch forward to hear anything they said. “Why’d you do it?” Lyanna asked. 

“Cause Bryden Ryswell is a know it all who was probably asking for it,” Benjen answered for Robb. At least he wasn’t wrong with that statement. They reached the bottle of a staircase and Lyanna release Robb to grab the railing instead. The moment he was free, Robb shot up the stairs that would take him to the hall that his room was off of, eager to finally reach his room and just maybe be alone. 

Benjen kept up with Robb but Lyanna took the stairs much slower, “Hey wait for me!” She cried but it wasn’t until Benjen grabbed Robb’s shirt sleeve that he stopped. Rolling his eyes, Robb waited until Lyanna reached the landing and darted after the boys. Captive from one sibling to the other. 

Even with Lyanna caught up, Benjen didn’t release Robb’s sleeve, “Was father mad?” He asked, oddly serious. 

Robb could still see Father’s face, twisted full of sorrow and longing and it still confused him. He didn’t know the answer to his brother’s question, so he settled for a shrug, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“He must have been mad.” Benjen seemed dissatisfied with Robb’s response, dropping the sleeve to cross his own arms. Robb didn’t really know why, but Benjen never seemed happy when it came to Father. It was almost like Benjen wanted a reason to be upset with Father. “Like real mad.”

Lyanna frowned at Benjen’s words. She glanced up between the brothers, her face only breaking more the longer no one said anything. The siblings were loyal and normally Robb would want to spend the whole day with them as they may be the only ones to make him feel better. But what Bryden said was too big for either one of them to handle or comprehend properly, which meant it was Robb's burden to carry. 

Robb knew if he explained everything to Benjen, it wouldn't be long until he would cause a scene about; another mess for Robb to deal with. Robb's temper was nothing compared to his brother's. Benjen'd be mad at Father, Bryden and probably even Ser Brienne and Ser Hador and try to confront all of them. He'd try to help and then only make things worse. Besides, between them stood Lyanna and Robb certainly was not going to bring his sister into this mess. She wouldn't understand and it would only upset her. Finally, Robb spoke up, “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice cut through the air, the sharpness making Lyanna’s eyes grown in anticipation of his next reaction. 

Benjen, however, remained unbothered and persistent, “Did he even care?” 

“It doesn’t matter Benj.” Robb turned on his heel, content to leave the two of them in the hallway. He really didn’t want to ponder what Father’s emotions were to answer him and then have to stop whatever Benjen's reaction would be, all while calming down Lyanna. He wanted to stop thinking about the situation entirely and then maybe, just maybe, the knot in his stomach would start to fade. 

Even though Benjen wanted answers, Robb left his siblings behind him, silently rejoicing when he heard Lyanna’s soft voice, “Don’t Benj.” It must have stopped Benjen from following after him and allowed Robb the chance to slip into his room, alone. 

Exhaustion weight down Robb and the relief he felt from being alone did nothing to alleviate it. He didn’t even have the energy to make it across his room to his bed or the chair beside the fire. Instead, he rested against the door and stared down at the wooden sword in his hands. 

He hated it. He hated swords class and he hated how it made him feel. The spars, the drills, losing and looking like a fool; he hated it all. He hated stupid Bryden and Ser Hador and Ser Brienne and everyone else in the class. Most of all, he hated how he let father down, not just with his terrible swords skills but also now by fighting in class. 

_“You’re a coward and a bastard!”_

Letting out a loud grunt he threw the sword across the room and watched it bounce against the wall. It did little to make him feel better. A throb began in his head as tears started to roll down his cheeks. He couldn’t distinguish one feeling from another, but all the anger, hatred, sadness, and doubt all cultivated in one awful weight crushing him. 

Sinking to the ground, Robb held his head, “I am Robb Stark, prince of the North and heir to the throne. I’m not a coward, I’m not a bastard.” He whispered, chocking on the dryness in his throat. He was starting to believe his words less and less, offering little comfort. All he could picture was Bryden’s sneer and Father’s sad face. 

“I am Robb, I’m not a coward.” The tears were flowing freely now, “I’m not a coward. I’m not-.” The words meant nothing to him now and so he just buried his head and cried, content to cry until he forgot about the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, poor Robb. I promise it'll get better (eventually)


	6. Part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peaceful family breakfast turns into a disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back...Again!  
> Beware the angst, it's coming in hot. This should be the last super angsty chapter before we dive into some well-deserved family fluff :)  
> Also, in this universe, Jon goes by Jon Stark as he took the Stark name when he married Sansa, that way their children are all Starks.  
> A reminder of the children's ages: Robb 9 years, Benjen 7.5 years, Lyanna 4 years.

Part VI-Benjen

Benjen woke up in a bad mood. For one, he didn’t sleep well. After three days of nonstop pestering, Robb finally relented and told Benjen what happened that morning that caused the fight between him and Bryden Ryswell. Benjen snuck into his brother’s room late last night and had the whole story recanted to him by his emotionally exhausted older brother. He stayed up late with Robb listening to his brother talk about the boys in swords class. 

Then, to make things worse, when Mother woke him in the morning, she told him that the whole family would eat breakfast together. Alone. Just them. It sounded terribly awkward and Benjen dreaded the event, dressing as slowly as possible to delay the inevitable. Things had been tough with his family, especially with Father. The idea of being forced to spend time with him right now was not high on his desires. 

The door burst open and Robb entered. He looked ready for his swords lesson after breakfast, wearing his practice jerkin and holding his wooden sword. Benjen didn’t know how Robb could deal with everything he was dealing with and still go to swords lessons like he was supposed to. Robb crossed the room quickly, hissing at Benjen. “Don’t say anything to any, not mother or father, and especially not-.” 

Benjen cut his brother off, rolling his eyes, “Lyanna, not Lyanna. I know, I know. Geeze, you think I’m a snitch or something.” Benjen pulled on his doublet, making sure it was straight, trying to keep stalling. If he could, he wouldn’t go to this breakfast at all. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to go and if he stalled any longer, Mother would get mad. 

“You got a big mouth and I don’t want this getting around.” Robb crossed his arms and pointed a knowing look at Benjen. In response, Benjen shot out his tongue and the two brothers left the room together. Robb looked away and his shoulders dropped slightly. “At least not more than it already is.” 

Robb’s voice had gotten soft and Benjen pitied his brother, “They still calling you-?” He asked, not wanting to say the cruel names that the boys had taken to calling Robb. Coward and bastard amongst the most common. It wasn’t fair and it certainly wasn’t right, but Robb remained adamant that there was nothing they could do to stop it. Benjen didn’t believe him one bit though and desperately wanted to think of something to help him. 

“Only in swords class, and only if the Sers aren’t around.” Robb shrugged, tucking the sword under his arm so he could hug his stomach. Out of the three siblings, Robb was the quietest but recently his brother had retreated even further into silence, only really talking when people made him. “I can handle it.”

“It’s not right.” Benjen declared, stopping to pull on Robb’s arm. Why couldn’t he see that? Robb seemed to ignore Benjen’s tug and just continued to walk towards their parent’s solar. 

“They’ll get bored and move on to torment someone else soon enough. Or they’ll leave Court. It’s fine.” Robb came off as confident but Benjen was pretty certain he just wanted to convince himself of that fact. They turned down the hall, almost to breakfast. 

However, Benjen knew better and figured Robb probably also had doubts about that fact. He raced around and stopped right in front of Robb so his brother had no choice but to stop and listen to him, “You and I both know that Bryden isn’t one to forget. Especially since you bloodied his nose.” 

Bryden Ryswell had a nasty black eye courtesy of Robb. Knowing what he said to start the fight, the black eye was well deserved in Benjen’s opinion. Benjen twitched his nose to the side and waited for his brother to crack. Robb’s emotions had been running on high for a few days, so it didn’t take much for Robb’s fake confidence to crumble. 

Robb sighed, sidestepping around Benjen. “I know he has it out to me but at least it’s just me and it’s not gotten around to father or you guys.” The one thing Robb cared about more than anything is that this whole stupid thing does not get back to father. 

Benjen sort of understood why that mattered but at the same time, it didn’t. He knew that Robb was afraid father was going to think less of him if he knew but personally, Benjen thought that father’s mind was made up about them so whatever they did wouldn’t matter. He was too busy to care about Robb’s problems, so it didn’t matter if he knew or not. 

Robb stopped in front of their parent’s door. He put both hands on Benjen’s shoulders glaring down at him. Much to his annoyance, despite his recent growth, Robb still stood a bit taller than him. “Just keep your mouth shut.” 

Benjen huffed out a long breath and glared up as his brother. “Promise me,” Robb asked. 

“Yeah, I promise.” Benjen relented, the sour feeling only growing in his stomach. So far, it had been a bad morning and it probably would only get worse. 

The door open and Father stood there, surprised to see the two boys, “Oh, there you two are, come in.” He stepped aside to let them in where Lyanna already sat, Mother finishing doing her hair. A table and chairs stood by the fire where two large chairs normally were. Father ushered them inside, a hand on each of their shoulders, and Benjen resisted the urge to shove it off. 

Breakfast was about as awkward as he thought it would be. Benjen pushed his food around his plate and slouched over even further in his seat, silently wishing that it would be over soon. No one was talking, except for Mother who was recounting her plans for the day. Father sat at the head of the table, with Robb and Benjen on one side and Mother and Lyanna on the other. 

Mother trailed off and glanced at Father who, like Robb, had taken a shining to stare at his plate. Benjen had been the only one actually eating as while Robb and Father stared at their plates, Mother simply picked at her food and Lyanna remained too occupied picking at a string on her sleeve. “Jon, Darling, anything to share?” Mother prompted, sounding an awful lot like how she’d nag at any of the children. 

Lyanna and Benjen shared a giggle from across the table, which caused Mother to turn quick and try to silence them with a sharp look. It may have stopped the giggle but not from the two continuing to smirk at each other. Father coughed once to clear his throat and Benjen watched him dart his eyes between him and his two siblings. It almost seemed like Father was nervous or something. 

“I plan to attend your swords lesson again today Robb.” Father finally announced, glancing over at the two boys. Benjen watched as all the color drained from his older brother’s face. Robb refused to meet Father’s gaze and instead settled for a shrug, eyes still trained on the plate before him. 

Benjen waited for Robb to speak up and say something. He knew that the last thing Robb wanted was for Father to come to his lesson again, after all, he had enough on his plate. Instead, he stayed quiet, picking at the food. For some one who so desperately wanted to keep his troubles away from Father, Robb just took this announcement in silence.

If Robb wasn’t going to say anything, then Benjen would. His brother had suffered enough over the past few days. “Why?” He asked, glancing over at the head of the table.

“Pardon?” Father’s eyes burrowed together as four pairs of eyes turned to Benjen. He tried hard not to squirm under their gazes. The harshest was Robb’s who probably wanted Benjen to stay silent, but he was tired and had no desire to do what his brother wanted him to. Besides, all he was helping. 

“Why do you have to go? Can’t you tell he hates it when you go?” Benjen kicked his feet against the chair, ignoring Robb’s glare. Father’s face became frozen as the whole family processed what Benjen said. Lyanna leaned forward, not wanting to miss a moment of this conversation. 

Robb pushed his shoulder and groaned, “Benjen! Shut it!” Their conversation from the walk to breakfast flashed back into Benjen’s mind and not knowing what Benjen was going to say is probably what is making Robb panic. He wasn’t going to tell Father everything, all he wanted to do was get him to not go to the swords lesson and give his brother a break. 

“No, it’s not right, and just cause you won’t say anything doesn’t mean I won’t.” Benjen leaned over and addressed his brother directly. If only Robb could have a little faith. “He shouldn’t go if you don’t want him to.” 

But just how not letting things go isn’t in Benjen’s nature, having trust and not panicking wasn’t in Robb’s nature. Robb threw up his hands and covered his face, yelling Benjen, “Snitch! This is why I didn’t want to tell you anything!”

Benjen leaned back and fixed his brother a glare. All he wanted to do was help him and here Robb sat, clearly upset for no good reason. Robb’s yells also pulled a reaction out of Father, who leaned towards Robb, shifting in his chair to face the boys more directly. 

“Robb, is this true?” Father spoke calmly but seemed agitated, especially when Robb didn’t move to answer him. “Robb!” Mother reached out and laid a hand over Father’s wrist. Normally, Mother hides her emotions very well and the children never knew what she was feeling but right now Benjen could see the worry woven into her forehead. 

Lyanna, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the free entertainment. She sucked in a deep breath in anticipation of the next move, but nothing happened. Their brother barely moved, only to drop his hands and stared at his plate on the table in front of him, ignoring their father’s direct question. From the flushed color in Robb’s cheeks, Benjen thought he might fall over right then and there. 

He hated these moments when Robb got too overwhelmed. In the face of confrontation, Robb had one of two reactions, his temper would snap, or he’d completely freeze, making hardly any motions at all. Generally, it all depended on who was there and if any adults were present. 

Benjen had enough of the silence and continued to speak on his brother’s behalf. “It is too true! He hates it, it’s embarrassing.” He wasn’t saying anything that Robb hadn’t told him the night before. 

“Shut up rat!” Robb broke from his frozen state and quickly pinched Benjen’s arm, hard. Oh, so now his temper snaps and not at father but at him.

Benjen immediately batted his hand away, “Ow!” His full attention was on his brother as panic spread through the whole room and all the occupants. The normally spacious room felt crowded and a ring echoed far away in his ears. A fight between brothers was only mere seconds away from breaking out in the middle of their parent's solar. 

“Pinch him back!” Lyanna cried, always reading to egg on both boys. Mother quickly shushed her and stood to reach over the table and swat their hands away from each other. 

“Stop it both of you! Do not touch your brother!” She declared, while constantly pushing their hands apart, but she couldn’t stop them all and the boys continued to hit at each other. Benjen felt surprised at his brother’s reaction. He thought that Robb would be appreciative that he was saying what Robb felt he couldn’t. 

So much was happening it was hard for Benjen to focus on it all. He and Robb were on the brink of a fistfight while Lyanna practically fell on the table to get in on the action. Mother continued her balancing act of trying to separate the boys and keeping Lyanna out of it. Benjen almost didn’t hear Father contributing, “I’d like to hear it from your brother please.” 

“Alright, let’s all calm down.” Mother’s requests finally got Lyanna back in her seat and the both boys to stop, but their glares remained intact. “Robb answer your father. It’s okay.” 

“Robb.” Father’s voice cut across the room like a sharpened Valyrian steel sword. His gaze fixated on his brother with an equal amount of strength. Father wanted answers, that much was clear.

On the other hand, Mother remained calm, countering Father’s intensity. Benjen elected to focus on her instead. “Is it why you were fighting in class?” She reached out with an open hand to Robb, but his brother was motionless. 

“Robb!” Father repeated, slightly louder this time, finally breaking Robb out of his frozen state. Benjen watch as hot words tumbled out of his brother’s mouth in a fury.

“Fine, alright! I don’t like it when he comes. I’m terrible as it is, and when he’s there I always do worse and everyone makes fun of me cause I’m the heir to the great Jon Stark, but I can’t even win a stupid spar!” Robb didn’t look at a single other person as he spoke. Tears ran down his flushed cheeks which he quickly wiped away. It was not common to hear Robb speak so openly and honestly, and everyone fell into a quiet shock. 

For a moment, regret filled Benjen for making his brother say that. He couldn’t stand to look at him, knowing that Robb probably hated him slightly more than their Father right now. Across the table, Lyanna’s mouth fell open in shock as she stared at Robb.

“Excuse me.” Robb’s chair made an atrocious noise as he pushed away from the table. Benjen couldn’t blame him for wanting to get away as quickly as possible. In fact, he was probably going to follow him, away from the disastrous breakfast.

“No, sit back down.” Father grabbed Robb’s upper arm, stopping him from fleeing. “Why haven’t you talk to me about this? And a shrug is not an answer.” At first, Father seemed open and approachable, but that disappeared as soon as Robb rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Instantly, he was back to his sharp words. 

“Jon!” Mother berated. 

“Don’t be mean!” Lyanna responded just as quickly, rocking up to lean across the table at Father. Even their sister was getting in on the fight, surprisingly coming to the brother’s defense. 

“Cause I don’t want to.” Robb stated before turning around to fix a glare back at him, “Benjen, I swear on the old gods if you say another-.” 

But Benjen had already decided that he was going to speak, and the words cut off Robb. “If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shouldn’t have to. Especially not to you. You come back thinking you’re our father but you’re not.” 

“Benjen Stark! Apologize!” Mother turned her attention to Benjen, still trying to defuse the explosive situation. Nothing seemed to work though, and every second passed, it just got worse and worse. 

“No! Why should I have to apologize if it’s true?” The heat on Benjen’s face was nearly unbearable now. It felt so hot that he couldn’t even think straight. Nothing made sense and at this point, it didn’t seem to matter what he said. 

Mother drew back, seemingly shocked at his words. Father, on the other hand, was doing the same dumb thing that Robb would do if he got really upset. Freeze up and say nothing. Father’s expression was void of emotion, only left with a brooding thinking face. For not the first time this morning, Benjen wondered if he pushed too far. 

“We’re all thinking it. He’s just the one dumb enough to say it.” Robb, surprisingly, spoke up in his defense. He jerked a thumb over to enunciate his point, before settling back with his arms crossed, Father’s hand falling off his arm. 

Benjen stood as well with crossed arms, mimicking his older brother. It seemed like Mother and Father wanted more explanation, which he decided to provide as hot, fat tears slowly rolled down his face. “You came back and you don’t care about us. You only care about being King and your lords. You embarrass Robb, hate me, and Lyanna’s scared of you and you just don’t care!” 

“Am not!” Lyanna very quickly interjected, tears quickly filling her eyes. At this rate, the only person without tears was Father who was just watching each child carefully. 

“Liar.” Robb sneered, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been sleeping in my room for the past week because you don’t want to go to mother anymore because Father’s there!” 

Lyanna stood too and sniffled, “You promised you wouldn’t say!” 

“Yeah well, Benjen promised he wouldn’t say either!” Robb shot Benjen yet another glare. He wondered how long it would take for his brother to forgive him this time. All Benjen wanted to do was help, but he did admit that this got out of hand. 

“Whatever, I’m done pretending like it’s all okay when it’s not. Not since he’s returned!” Benjen yelled back, pointing a finger in father’s general direction. Both Lyanna and Robb opened their mouths but did not have a chance to vocalize anything

“Enough.” Father’s voice cut through the room, silencing the children. Benjen glanced back at his parents and his stomach turned at what he saw. Mother had her hands clasped under her nose as her eyes glistened with tears. Father’s face had twisted and flushed of color. 

“Do you, do you really think that your Father doesn’t care about you three?” Mother struggled to speak the words and Benjen’s stomach sank, leaving a hollowed burning sensation. This was certainly not where he wanted the conversation to go, and now both his parents were upset. 

No one spoke. No one even moved. The room fell into a silence, a drastic change from just moments ago where the three siblings were all yelling over each other to be heard. Benjen glanced up at Robb, trying to figure out if he was going to answer Mother or not. Instead, all he got back was a glare that said _Oh now you stay quiet? ___

He wasn’t stupid. He knew this whole thing was his fault. He said the first thing after all and started the fight. Even though all he wanted was to help, somehow it had all spiraled into a terrible mess. He had to finish it, but he couldn’t find the words. His mouth fell open like a gaping fish, no sound escaping at all.

__“He left.” Lyanna spoke barely above a whisper, but it echoed in the quiet room, “And now he’s here but he’s still gone.”_ _

__The words weighed heavy as everyone processed them. Somehow, the youngest amongst them had the strongest words. Robb coughed and pulled on Benjen’s shoulder, “C’mon.” Silently, the three children walked away from the table and left the room. This time, neither Father nor Mother stopped them from leaving._ _

__As soon as the doors closed behind them, Benjen turned to face his two siblings. “Well, that did not go well.” The bad feeling in the room had followed them into the hall, and it was a feeling that was not going to go away for a while. “I was trying to help!”_ _

__Robb’s mouth fell open as his eyes narrowed as if he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Reaching down, he grabbed Lyanna’s hand, pulling her away, “I hope you’re happy, cause now Father’s never going to like us.”_ _

__“He was never going to like us anyways,” Benjen stated, crossing his arms, following the two a few steps behind. “The sooner we all realize it, the better.”_ _

__Robb turned sharply, and while Benjen expected a glare, all he saw on his brother’s face was fear. Fear that he was right and Father didn’t like any of them. A sniffle from between them, made him realize that Lyanna’s tears had turned to sobs. It was a fear they all shared, but deep down, Benjen knew that it was a fear that was a fact._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do want to say a quick personal note. I appreciate everyone who has left comments on this piece. I know I don't often respond but from the bottom of my heart thank you for reading and supporting my work. It took some time for me to have the confidence to post, and that's a large part of why the delays in publication. I oftentimes finish the chapter and spend so much time editing and rewriting because I am scared to put out something subpar. Knowing that people are reading and enjoying really makes my day and helps me build that confidence.  
> Thank you!


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